


Phoenix

by mysomeday



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 15:09:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2737148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysomeday/pseuds/mysomeday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth was not just another dead girl.<br/>Bethyl AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phoenix

**Author's Note:**

> So not only is this my first story in The Walking Dead fandom, but it's also my first ever! I refuse to believe that Beth is dead, so this is an AU where (surprise surprise) Beth lives.  
> If anybody reads this, I'll be happy. I put a lot of work into it. Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran is beautiful and you should definitely listen to it while you read this, but it's not necessary.  
> On another note, please comment and tell me what you like, what you hate, and anything in between. I hope you like this! Oh, and please forgive any typos that might be in this! I thought I got 'em all, but you never know.

\------------------

"I was made to keep your body warm

But I’m cold as the wind blows, so hold me in your arms"

“Kiss Me” – Ed Sheeran

\------------------

She’s dead. The words ran in circles in his head, but never seem to come together in any meaning. She’s gone.

_You’re gonna miss me so bad when I’m gone, Daryl Dixon._

And now she was. Forever. He carried her for miles, refusing to look down at her face. She felt like deadweight in his arms, but he will carry her for the rest of his life. He never wanted to let her go. He couldn’t protect her in life, but he would never let anything happen to her in death. He kept walking.

_You’re going to be the last man standing._

He reached the center of the forest. Last man standing, huh. He fell to his knees. He would rather have her than be alive, but he knows that’s not what she would want. She would want him to keep moving forward, so he will. For her.

Their family surrounded him as he crouched there on the forest floor, holding her. They spoke of getting shovels and burying her grave.

“No,” he said. He shook his head. “We can’t bury her. Walkers could find her. No. We’re not burying her.”

They all tried to reason with him. “It’s not like they’re gonna turn her, brother,” Rick said. “They can’t.”

Daryl was silent for a moment. He looked up and muttered, “But they could do much worse.”

No one said anything for a minute, trying to push the image out of their heads. Maggie took a step forward, “Then what do we do?” she demanded angrily. “I’m not gonna leave my baby sister lying there on the ground.”

For the first time, Daryl looked down at the girl cradled in his arms. “We cremate her,” he said simply. Fire meant so much to her, to him, to them. It seemed fitting that they send her off in a blaze of flames.

He barely noticed when the family spread out to gather the wood. Maggie shrugged off Glenn’s comforting hand and went off alone. Carol took off solemnly, determined to find the best and driest wood she could. Soon, it was just the two of them, the way it was always meant to be.

Daryl shifted her in his arms. Now she rested the way he had always wanted to hold her. Her head nestled between his jaw and shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around his back. But even so, it was not what he wanted. He wanted her arms circling his shoulders, her breath hot on his neck. But that would never happen. He was too late. But it was hard to imagine she was gone when she looked so alive. Her skin was pale as ice, but her skin held onto her warmth. It wasn’t his warmth passing onto her, but her own, as if her body forgot to stiffen and freeze. He was glad for it though. It made it all seem like a dream. So what, her chest didn’t rise and fall with her next breath anymore. So what, the red of her blood darkened her yellow hair. So what, her heart—her caring, gentle heart—no longer pumped, quickening when they were pressed together, matching the beat of his own when they lay beside each other at night.

Tears threatened to fall from his eyes again. He would have wiped them away, but that meant letting go of her and he wasn’t willing to do that yet. So they fell, one by one, onto her young face, so open and trusting and full of pain she shouldn’t have experienced. He wanted to do something for her. He had let her down in the end, but he would send her off like she deserved. And if she was gone, he wanted her to have something to remember him by. Leaning her against his chest, he shrugged off his vest. The angel wings always suited her more anyway. He gently lifted her arms, pulling them through the arm holes as you would a child. He found it strange that she hadn’t gone stiff with death yet. It was easy to dress her. He knew he was just making something out of nothing and merely thanked god he did not have to see her as corpse-like as she would soon become. Her body would not decay. It would rise to the sky, escaping all the death and destruction left in this world. She was always meant for more than this.

Time passed. It seemed like seconds to Daryl, but in his haze of grief, nothing was making much sense. Before he knew it, the wood was piled high on the ground and it was time to say their goodbyes. He cradled her in his arms once more, pulling her tight to his chest. Tears fell freely and he didn’t care who saw. Let them see how she changed him. Let them see how he was hers. The family walked with him to the pyre, touching her face, her shoulder, running shaking fingers through her golden hair. The walk to her final resting place was over much too soon and he had to put her down.

As softly as he could, as though he were putting her to bed after a long day, he laid her on the cold ground. His hand lingered on hers. His heart felt tight, as if it were shriveling to nothing in his chest. Rick and Carol spread the wood around her body and over it. For Daryl’s sake, they wanted to get it over with and quick. Carol shot a quick glance back at her friend, who stood a foot away, his eyes trained on the girl’s face, as if waiting for her eyes to open again and for her to yell at him for giving up hope.

Rick struck the match, holding it out to Daryl, who backed up half a step. Images of his childhood home, her farm, and the moonshine shack rushed through his brain. Fire meant so much. But he couldn’t be the one to do it. It would be like saying goodbye. And they hate goodbyes. Rick tossed the flame onto the wood and placed a bracing hand on Daryl’s shoulder. His brother was shaking, his eyes focused on some memory only he could see.

He remembered the shack and burning it to the ground. Realistically, he knew that to burn a shelter down before nightfall was suicide. But she stood next to him, the flames burning brightly in her eyes. And it felt good. It felt like a release. His past, and her past, could not hold them back anymore. They would move forward together. So they raised their hands to the flames, to the past, and flipped it all off. If only he could do that now. But this fire was different. This fire was her and him and all they had gone through. This fire was his life. Was his love.

He stood there silently while the rest of the family slowly wandered away. They had paid their respects and needed to carry on. Maggie stayed the longest, but she allowed herself to be pulled away gently by Glenn. Then it was just the two of them. But they weren’t looking into a fire, feeling the release, they were being burned up.

The spark she lit in his chest threatened to overcome him. No longer was it the steady burning meant to keep hope and love alive. It was tongues of flames roasting his humanity to ash. They constricted his heart so he couldn’t breathe. And then he knew. Her death had shot another spark into him, but the pain of it all was too much.

He didn’t want to feel anymore. He didn’t want the pain. But if there was one thing she taught him, it was not to give up. He had to have faith. She may be gone now, but he had to live for her. He had to wait for the day fate would bring them back together. He was always skeptic, but she believed it all happened for a reason. And he believed in her.

As he stood there silently, these thoughts running through his head and his heart burning like a supernova, he was brought back to Earth by a piercing cry. No. He couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it. But it was her. It was her. He rushed over, his surroundings a blur as he reached into the burning pile.

“Beth!” he yelled, running back to the pyre as fast as he could. If he burned himself, he didn’t care. Beth was alive and she was hurting. He had to get her out of there. A hand burst forth from beneath the pile of wood. He grabbed that pale white hand and yanked her up and into his arms. Her shirt was on fire and her legs were burned.

He placed her on the ground and whipped off his jacket. He beat the flames out as quickly as he could before hugging her tightly to his chest. She shuddered and shivered, clinging with all her might to him. Thank god, he repeated to himself over and over. Thank god.

The family came running as soon as they heard her scream. Maggie rushed to the front. Over Daryl’s shoulder, she touched Beth’s face as if she could not believe what she was seeing. How could her baby sister be alive? How could her eyes be open? Maggie dimly felt the tears streaming down her face in relief. She tried to take Beth’s hand, to pull her from Daryl’s embrace, but he won’t let go. His arms were like solid steel around the girl he thought he lost and he refused to give her up. Maggie understood. She took a step back and shot a watery smile towards her husband.

Everyone had questions and wanted answers, but Daryl ignored them all. He lifted Beth up in his arms and carried her away to where Rick had set up a tent for him. He couldn’t look at her still, afraid that if he did, she would disappear. “I almost burned you,” he whispered to her. “I almost lost you.”

Looking up at him, she smiled slowly, the expression now unfamiliar to the muscles of her face. She reached up, touching his cheek softly. He stiffened, but still wouldn’t look at her. She huffed a little, but said nothing. She was too glad to be with him again. Too glad to be alive. There would be time to talk later. For now, she was perfectly fine with staring up at him and feeling his arms supporting her.

It was as if they had gone back in time. As he carried her, Beth wound her arms around his neck, holding fast. He swallowed hard, remembering carrying her just hours before, when her arms were limp and he thought he was carrying a corpse. Now, she was just so alive. She relaxed in his arms, comfortable in a way he knew she hadn’t been in weeks. He could feel her heart beating and her chest rising and falling. It was the best feeling he could have ever wished for.

When they reached the tent, he put her down, laying her head on a backpack left on the ground. As soon as he had, he sat down a little ways away. "Daryl," she croaked out. He rushed over and leaned over her in an instant. She smiled, "Thanks.” He knew she meant for saving her from the fire, but for a moment, his heart beat faster and he allowed himself to believe she meant something more.

"You need water," he said, but he hesitated. He didn’t ever want to leave her alone again. Bad things happened when they were separated. It was better that they were together. For her own safety.

"It's okay," she assured. "I'll be right here when you get back." He gave her a look. That was what they thought last time.

Maggie stepped up to the opening of the tent, "I'll watch her for you. Go get her something to drink.” He gave her a hard stare before nodding quickly and hurrying out of the tent. She sat down, looking at Beth as her eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry" she said suddenly, her voice watery and garbled. "I should’ve tried harder. I should've looked for you like he did."

"Like who did?"

"Daryl. He chased the car that took you for two days. He didn't give up even when he dropped from exhaustion. He's the one that led us to the hospital." She ran a hand through her sister’s long, matted hair. "I wish I was like that. But I guess it's different."

"Hey," Beth interjected. "In this world, you've got to keep moving. You needed to keep everyone safe. I would've done the same"

"No, you wouldn't. But it's okay." She laughed, "It figures. You're lying there, you survived a bullet to the head AND a fire, and you're trying to cheer me up"

Beth cracked another smile. "Will you tell me what happened? I remember stabbing Dawn, but that's it. Next thing I know, Daryl is pulling me out of the fire."

Maggie's eyes grew hard. "Dawn shot you. In the head. So Daryl killed her and carried you out. We had no idea what was happening and then all of a sudden, you're there, lying in his arms. We all thought you were dead. Bethy, you had no pulse. You weren't breathing."

As Maggie told her the story, the little pieces started to come together in Beth's mind. She felt the bullet scraping her skull. She heard a second shot, but the world was passing by in a blur. She couldn't open her eyes. It was like she was barely holding on to her body, like something was trying to rip her away. Then she was being lifted, cradled against a chest that felt so familiar, like she had buried her face in it in another life. It was warm and shaking. Why was it shaking? This chest was always so strong and solid. She couldn't move, but felt herself being carried along. Drops of water fell on her face, but she couldn't wipe them away. Was she crying? Was the chest crying? She passed in and out of consciousness, never really knowing what was going on. It seemed like days later, but the chest became a shoulder. She leaned against it gratefully. It was so warm and she felt so cold. Her body worked to warm itself, but it was too weak to do it on its own. As she lay there, cradled in someone's arms, she felt her skin heat up. This was not the cold stillness of death overcoming her. This was life and warmth and love.

Her arms seemed to move of their own accord as they were pushed through something. She felt warm leather settle against her back. It felt like home. But no, this was wrong. This was not hers. This belonged to the chest, to the shoulder. This leather was a vest. Was Daryl.

Air barely passed through her parted lips, but she tried to stay awake. The darkness threatened to overcome her, but she clung to Daryl. Or rather, he clung to her. She heard him speak, felt the rumble of his chest. She didn't know how long they sat there, her face pressed into her shoulder. He just kept murmuring in her ear, begging her to hear him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

She wanted to tell him she knew. She was okay. But she still couldn't open her eyes. She wanted to tell him he'd be okay. He was so strong. But she was strong too. She didn't want to die. She wanted to grab his face and scream that she was going to live. She wanted to scream to the mountains that as long as she had him, they'd both be okay.

Then she was cold again. Daryl’s warmth was gone. She wondered where he’d gone, but his warmth was bringing her body back. Her head ached and ached, the pain like a poker attacking the side of her head. She felt like she had when her favorite horse kicked her in the head. But then she felt the flames. They licked her skin until it lost all sensation. She needed him. No, she needed herself. Trapped inside her body, she screamed for all she was worth. She screamed for the pain of not only the fire, but of everything that had happened since her world was flipped upside down. She screamed for not being able to tell Daryl how she felt. She screamed for never knowing if he felt the same.

And suddenly, she could move. The haze fell away, replaced by the savage fire. She thrust her arm up as hard as she could, reaching for who knows what. But there was a hand there waiting and it brought her up. It took her from the flames and back to the world, back to herself. It took her to the ground and put out the flames, and then it took her into its arms. And that’s when she knew she was safe; she was home.

Daryl waited outside the tent, listening to Maggie’s version of events. She made him out to be some kind of hero. Yeah right, he scoffed to himself. If he was Superman, he never would have let her out of his sight. She wouldn’t be lying there, bruised, burned, and beaten. They would be together in their funeral parlor, with a dog and a life together. The bucket of water he held tightly in his hands shook and some of the liquid sloshed over the side. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. This was Beth’s water. He couldn’t waste it. She needed it.

Maggie spotted him out of the corner of her eye. Smiling softly, she leaned over to kiss her sister’s forehead. Her lips pressed once firmly before she leaned down to Beth’s ear. “He kept looking for you, Bethy. He’s always been looking for you.”

Beth’s face flushed and her eyes darted up to the entryway of the tent, where Daryl slowly came forward. Brushing past him, Maggie squeezed his shoulder once before leaving them alone. Her part was done. It was up to them now.

“So,” Beth began.

“Beth, I—,” Daryl grunted.

They both froze, just looking at each other. Daryl shifted, scratching the back of his head. Beth struggled to sit up and he leaned forward to help her up, letting her brace herself on his arm. He never thought he’d feel it again. She swatted his chest, laughing. “I’m fine, Daryl. I can sit up on my own.”

He just looked at her. He reached a hand up to cradle the back of her head, careful not to touch her wound.

“Oh,” she breathed. “That.”

“Yeah, that.”

Seeing him in front of her like that, just staring at her like he used to, her heart sped up. She felt her face heat up before she blurted out, “So, you really ran after me for two days, huh?”

He looked away for a long moment. “I should’ve been faster. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I shouldn’t have opened that door.” He shook his head once before meeting her eyes. “I was supposed to protect you.”

Her eyes flared. “Daryl Dixon, there is no way you could have known what was going to happen. Those people from Grady planned it all. They meant to separate us. If you go on thinking like that, you’re only doing what they wanted you to!”

She looked so mad and annoyed; he couldn’t help it when one side of his mouth twitched. “Okay,” he said, if only to calm her down. “Okay, I believe you, girl. Calm down.”

She reached over to place her hand on top of his. The warmth of that little hand brought it all to life for him. It was like they were back at that grave, holding hands as tight as they could, each helping the other through the grief of losing a parent. “Daryl.”

He grunted a reply, which made her smile again. “I shouldn’t be keeping you up,” he said after a pause.

“Daryl. I just want you to know, I’d chase after you too.” She blushed, “I mean, if someone kidnapped you. Not like I’d just run after you—“

“I know what you mean,” he smirked, staring deep into her eyes. That familiar expression was frozen on his face when Beth leaned forward, tucking her hand beneath his chin. She wasn’t sure when she would get this chance again. And maybe it was the bullet to the brain, but she didn’t want to wait for him to make a move anymore. Slowly, so slowly he wondered if he was imagining it all, she pressed her lips to his.

And she was warm and real. He kissed her back hard, cradling her head in his hand. The spark he felt in his chest, which had dulled to a pleasant warmth, flared up again, enveloping both of them in its heat. He felt rooted to the ground, rooted to her. He felt like forces beyond his control tied him to her and her to him. He never wanted to break those bonds again.

She felt like her heart had broken up into thousands of tiny bubbles and they were floating up, up, and away with every second her lips were pressed to his. She felt like she could run for days and never get tired. She felt like she could take on the world; take on the apocalypse, if she just has this man by her side.

They remained pressed together for a minute before her head started to pound again. He felt her wince and pulled away immediately, his eyes darkening. “Lay back,” he murmured, pushing gently on her shoulder. “You need your rest if you want your head to heal up.” She smiled at that and allowed him to guide her down.

He settled himself inches away from her. She was going to sleep and he was gonna keep watch. So he sat there and watched as her eyes slowly started drooping. But she seemed to refuse to let herself fall asleep.

“Beth.” Her eyelids rose. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I know you won’t ever be letting me out of your sight again, Daryl.” She giggled, “I just don’t want you thinking it’s all a dream.”

He looked down at her, taking in the burns and the blood. “My dream wouldn’t be like this,” he said.

She laughed, “Okay, I’ll give you that. Mine probably wouldn’t either. But the end result is what really matters, right?”

He didn’t answer, instead moving himself beside her, pulling her against his chest. She yawned, snuggling into him. She knew there’d be plenty of time to talk about what just happened (And she knew she’d have to be the one to start that conversation) and that Daryl was going to insist she sleep soon, worried about her head wound.

“Y’know Daryl, I told you, didn’t I? I told you not to give up on me,” she muttered sleepily, digging her face into his shirt.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, looking down at her with a small smile on his face. “I remember.”

She fell asleep to his hand rubbing circles on her back while he thought back to that day months or even years ago.

_It wouldn’t kill you to have a little faith._

He would always have faith in her. ‘Cause no matter what, fate always brought the two of them together in the end.


End file.
